I've been mulling over the idea of going to this anime convention in Toronto for a
couple months. I know most people are going to be busy with their own stuff this weekend, so I figured I'd strike off on
my own to buy stuff and see what there is to see. Which probably isn't much, but it'd be fun just to go and buy stuff. I
didn't buy very much at all at the convention in May, so this would kind of make up for it. I guess.
So, the plan (after I'd ruled out having a car by now) was that I'd go into Toronto by bus
or something on Saturday morning, do the con, and return Saturday night. This seemed sensible, since their were buses
going back and forth to Toronto all the time. Except on Saturday, it turns out. The last bus that leaves TO at around
six. And that kinda sucks.
The train isn't any better, unfortunately.
I thought briefly about spending the night in Toronto, but then I remembered that one fateful Thursday night I was
stranded there. Hotels are expensive. And I don't have any reason to be in Toronto very long. I've also considered
renting a car. This is also expensive, but less so than hotels. I'd have to park the stupid thing, but whatever. I can't
convince myself it's worth it, though.
So my little adventure seems to have died before it got off the ground. Which is just as well, because it was
ill-conceived to begin with. The moral of this story is probably that I should get off my ass and buy a car. Or possibly
that I should give up on trying to do these things on my own and try that social networking thing. *sigh*
i don't know why,
but i want to write love poetry,
and not just any love poetry,
but the sort of love poem that
goes on and on,
like a forest stream
or the wind
through your hair
on a summer's night
that never seems to end
like this sentence,
flowing forever
blissfully
with seemingly no care
for the petty confines
of grammar, or
meter,
but it still holds you,
wraps us,
connects you to me
through word and sound
and thought and idea
for even though
you're not here
and even though
i don't know
who you are
i long for you
to hold me
as i long to hold you
i only have this poem—
this nothing—
that means nothing
and everything
but even it has to
end.
It's nearly 9:00 and I'm still at work. And not because I'm unhappy with the weather, either... Quite the contrary; I'm
quite happy with the first real rain we've seen in months. I've got my first design review meeting tomorrow and I haven'
t finished the design yet. Which, of course, explains why I'm writing this.
I'm still confident I'll get this thing done in the next hour or so. Maybe longer, if I keep this up, but whatever. I
didn't sleep much last night because of a rather nasty headache that kept me up till after 3. Oh, and I seem to be
rambling, which means I'm not thinking straight and I should go home soon. Hm... This is horribly reminding me of
Calculus.
I came into work to a minor crisis this morning. Nothing new, and happily, it seems to be resolved now. I can't take
credit, unfortunately. That's too bad, but it wasn't anything I'm good at anyway. The upshot of it, though, is I'm more
stressed out (over and above the fatigue and stress of this design review thing, which I wasn't worried about till about
noon today) than I really like to be. And I don't much like stress at all. Gets me all flustered. I can't do anything.
I know. I should get a nice cup of hot chocolate and call this a break.